Third chemo

Went smoothly. I felt satisfied that during this chemo session I was able to call the company that makes the chemo drip machines and ask them how to turn down the piercing beep that alerts the nurses when the bag of chemicals is empty. Started a small revolt among the other chemo patients in the chemo lounge who agreed that the beeping and the alcohol wipes were the worst part of chemo.

I must be feeling better because I was verbally assaulted by a nurse who demanded I not touch the machine (which I hadn’t). I explained to her that I was just trying to figure out how to make our time in chemo more audibly pleasant for everybody. She seemed unmoved.

Then it was off home where I began my second round of internal medicine (i.e. I finally started smoking the right weed).

As I’ve mentioned before, up until this point I had not been eating much and have continued to lose weight. But almost as if I’d been given a prescription by Dr. Houdini, this situation has magically transformed. The weed, an indica strain, wiped out my nausea and gave me an extreme case of the munchies. This marked the beginning of my journey back to three meals a day.

It was so effective that on Friday night I found myself at Bloom’s Bar on Potrero Hill at my friend Erin Rooney’s birthday party, where – though I was abstaining, obviously – I was able to revel with lots of drunken, empathetic friends.

I continued to eat regularly for the rest of the weekend, occasionally smoking a little weed to trigger my appetite. By Monday, the weed became unnecessary and I was back on a normal eating schedule for the first time in I don’t remember how long.

One of the benefits of this regimen is that now I don’t need to take any more nausea meds, which makes chemo and my morning cup of chai my only two medicinal supplements.